


Ministry Merriment: The Misadventures of Rainbows and Bookworms

by lightblue_Nymphadora, Respitini



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 12:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14790312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightblue_Nymphadora/pseuds/lightblue_Nymphadora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Respitini/pseuds/Respitini
Summary: Tonks wants to ask Hermione out. Hermione has been pining for Tonks since forever. They both work in the Ministry. This should go smoothly, right?





	Ministry Merriment: The Misadventures of Rainbows and Bookworms

**Author's Note:**

> This is an episodic series of vignettes more than a single story, so with each chapter it'll be listed as "Complete," but the chapter count will go from 1/1 to 2/2, etc. lightblue_Nymphadora and I are writing this ~100 words at a time back and forth in a Messenger chat with a bunch of friends, which is the best writing method ever. Enjoy!

Chapter One: First Date

 

Tonks twisted in her chair as she waited for the Auror recruits to finish their written exam. She spotted Harry out in the training arena, and a thought that had been nagging her that week resurfaced. Thankfully, she was able to catch up with The Boy Who Lived afterward the test.

"Wotcher, Potter!"

"Hey Tonks!"

"Er...could I have a word? I have something I wanted to ask you."

He followed her to a secluded spot in the arena and asked, "What's up?"

"Is Hermione mad at me? I think she's avoiding me…"

Harry, to her surprise, burst into laughter.

"About that," Harry said. "She's actually been trying to – Oh, here she comes now."

"Hi, Hermione," Tonks said. "I hear you –

"HARRY MAY I HAVE A WORD PLEASE?" Hermione said, grabbing Harry and pulling him away from Tonks. "Harry, I'm not sure I'm ready for this. It's only been six months since Ron and I broke it off, and, well, all the relationship books say it's best to have a firm understanding about oneself before starting again with someone else."

"Merlin's left tit, Hermione, you've been pining after- mmmf!"

Among the things Hermione wasn't ready for was that conversation.

Tonks stood in between the mountain of tires and the training arena's scoreboard feeling all the way perplexed. She couldn't hear the hushed conversation due to the recurs filing in, but she could pick up on the body language. For one, Harry looked like he was still just barely holding back laughter. For another, Hermione looked...nervous? What in the name of Morgan le Fey's enchanted dildos was going on? Tonks decided on a course of action, and would later blame the slightly devious plan on her Slytherin heritage.

"Er...hi you two. Hermione, I need your help with something."

"Er, Hi, Tonks," Hermione replied, her voice an octave higher than usual. "What can I do you – er, how can I do – I mean, wotcher?"

Tonks found Nervous Hermione even more adorable than Regular Hermione, so she arched an eyebrow at her, shook her head, popping out a large, rainbow-colored afro like she'd seen on this weirdo at American football matches holding a John 3:16 sign. Hermione started to giggle.

"That's better, love. I was hoping I could come by your office this evening after work. There's this case I've been trailing, and – you do have an "after work," right?

Hermione stood there blinking for a moment. Harry nudged her and she seemed to pull herself together a bit. "Yes! Yes, of course. I get off - I mean I'm done with work at five."

"Brilliant I'll stop by your office then! You still like noodles? I'll bring dinner." With that, Tonks headed off toward her own office to plan.

Hermione turned to Harry. "What do I do?"

"Hermione," harry said kindly. "You're the brightest witch of our time. I'm sure you can handle a date with Tonks."

"It is a working dinner, Harry!"

"Oh I'm sure you'll be working alright…"

* * *

"This is not a date, this is not a date," Hermione repeated to herself over and over again as she was tidying up. A classic case of 'a messy desk is a sign of a brilliant mind,' Hermione had nearly no surfaces in her office on which one could eat. "Two hours before she shows up, that's enough time, right?" She pulled three empty parchment boxes from the dictoquill area and began to sort the various paperwork by importance, date, and size. She'd just turned six large piles into fourteen small ones when there was a knock on her door.

Hermione conjured a filing cabinet, sent all of the papers zooming into it, and straightened her robes as she went to answer the door. Sure, all her work on this month's Children's Protection Act was how horribly out of order, but that was a problem for Tomorrow!Hermione. She opened the door to see Tonks holding a Wagamama bag.

"Teriyaki beef donburi, extra sesame, hot oil, no scallions?"

Hermione felt her heart flutter a bit. "I'm impressed that you've got my order memorized."

"Well- sweet Zeus!"

"What?" Hermione asked, panic rising again.

"Not a paper in sight! Reveal your secrets!"

"Oh, that?" Hermione replied, quite pleased with herself. "I've been reading this book on Scandinavian organizational techniques – all the rage, you see, and –"

"Hermione?" Tonks asked. "Food's getting cold. Mind if I come in?"

"Oh. Oh dear. Yes, please," she stammered, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way. Tonks set the food on the small table next to the door, and they sat down to eat.

"So, this case you've been trailing?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, right. Seems a few pureblood supremacists are attacking muggle discos in Soho and – that's an awful lot of hot oil, Hermione…"

Hermione look down to see that she'd dumped about half of the small container onto her bowl. She sacrificed one slice of beef as to not have a burning mouth. "So...soho? What's going on?"

"Right now, just vandalism. We're hoping to do some recon and keep it from going any further."

"What can I do to help?"

"Well...one of the places they've hit is called Candy Bar." Tonks continued when she saw Hermione's blank look. "It's a lesbian bar. I need a date to get in on the night we want to do recon. Fancy a dance night?"

"A – a lesbian bar?" Hermione asked, her voice as much nervous laugh as spoken word. "Why would I want to go to – I mean, but I'm not a lesbian."

Tonks was nearly successful not letting her sinking heart register on her face. Nearly.

"It's, well, I am, and –"

"Well, everybody knows you are, Tonks," Hermione said

"Yes, well, I just thought – You know what? Never mind, Hermione. I'll just do this on my own. Enjoy the noodles."

Hermione banged her head on the table repeatedly before conjuring a Patronus. "Harry Potter! Get your world-saving arse in here this instant!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Tonks had Apparated straight to her favorite pub - The Wily Squid. She slapped the bar twice, getting the attention of the bartender.

"Hi there, Tonks," Angelina said, pouring a whiskey ginger for her. "What's wrong? Your hair's gone blue."

"I had a theory...and I think it was wrong."

Angelina stared at her for long moment. "Is that all you're going to give me? The place isn't exactly packed tonight - I have time to be your therapist."

"Fine, but can you put in an order for a large sticky toffee pudding first?"

"Oh Merlin, that bad?"

"Not bad - weird."

"Wait, we're talking about Hermione Granger?" Angelina asked. "Bushy-haired, brilliant, questionable taste in Wealseys?"

"That's the one," Tonks replied. She'd been acting all nervous, and avoiding me, and I thought it was because she fancied me. Turns out she's just a homophobe."

"Again, I must ask. Hermione  _Granger_? The same person who knitted hats for elves' rights? She's a bigot?"

"Looks that way to me."

"Do you know that she left Ron because she finally figured out that all this time she'd been in love with the one Harpy who doesn't 'play for the Harpies'?"

"Oh," Tonks replied.

Tonks stared down at the double shot of whiskey. "Then WHAT is going on?" Tonks whinged.

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Your problem is you approached her all wrong. Springing a fake mission to a lesbian bar on her may have worked on the straight girls you love turning out, but you know Hermione better than that."

Tonks sighed. "What do you suggest I do then?"

"Ever seen what a girl can do with a grapefruit, a bathrobe, and eagle feather quill?"

Tonks pauses with her spoon hovering over her pudding. "What?"

Angelina winked at her. "Just ask her out, Tonks."

* * *

"You told her you weren't a lesbian. Then you told her everyone knows she's one, and then she stormed out. Did I get that right?"

"Yes, Harry" Hermione muttered, her forehead stuck to her desk.

"And this was after she bought you dinner and made up that ridiculous story about Death Eaters hitting up gay bars in Soho so she could drag you out to one?"

"Wait – that was made up? But she…"

"Great Godric's gonads, Hermione. I'm just glad we had to defeat a dark wizard, not find a date for Friday night. We'd've been dead by fifth year."

"There's no need to make me feel worse!" Hermione groaned. "I need to figure out a plan to fix it."

"Put on a fluffy purple suit and sing Kiss in front of her office?"

"I'm serious, Potter!"

"Well you screwed yourself out of getting to be the princess in this case. You'll have to put on your big-girl trousers and woo her."

"I'm sorry...woo her? Have you been watching noir films with Ron's dad again?"

"This isn't about me," harry said primly. "I can see we're going to have to get expert help. I'm sending a Patronus to George."

* * *

"So, what odds was the shop running on Tonks?" Angelina asked George that night, lying in bed.

"Tonks was 5:2. Luna was the favorite at 8:5, at least after Ginny at 11:9 was taken off the board. You know, even Harry put a flutter on Ginny."

"I'm not sure which is more surprising," Angelina said. "Gay Hermione or Straight Ginny. You and Verity made out like bandits when that dropped, didn't you?"

"Oh, we certainly made out," George said, wistfully. "Now, ahem. How shall we play this, my dear? Should we let the poor girls off easily?"

Angelina just laughed.

"Sweet boy...I love that you try to get me to be a good influence on you. I think we need to make sure they end up in a positive way, but that doesn't mean we can't have our fun with them."

"I love the way your mind works. Speaking of how your mind works, will you have a look at our new list of items for the back room of the shop?"

Angelina glanced over the list. "I'd go with candy floss flavored lube, instead of raspberry. And, interestingly, that give me a great idea for Operation Rainbow Bookworm…"

* * *

The next day, Tonks was taking out all of her frustration on the recruits, firing off stunner after stunner, sometimes using two wands at once. By 9:30, they'd all been sent to the infirmary, leaving her with a mountain of paperwork. She was just about to get started when one of the junior dispatchers came running into her office.

"Tonks! The Goblins are revolting!"

"I know, right?" she replied. "All little and green, and with those pointy teeth? Ew!"

"No, Tonks. They're really revolting. In the middle of Diagon Alley!"

"Oh, right. Get Magical Creatures on the horn and – shit."

Tonks, concentrating on the message, had only just now looked properly up at the speaker. It wasn't just any junior dispatcher - this was Orion Desmond Nitt, the worst dispatcher in Magical Law Enforcement. He'd caused roughly sixty-three bad days and four near-catastrophes because he tended to skim his notices and summarize in the worst way possible. That had given Tonks the headache of the Hogwarts Teachers' Strike, the Poisoned Hogsmede Kegs, and the Return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That last one had been fun, as Harry had personally kicked Orion's ass for it.

"Orion...are you sure it's a full blown revolt?"

"Tonks, would I lie to you?" Nitt asked. Tonks's stony silence answered his question.

"Well, sure, but it would never be intentionally. Everything I've heard has Gringotts throwing wizards and witches out of their bank. Bodily."

"Are there aurors already on site?" Tonks asked

"Potter and Weasley are there now, ma'am. They're the ones who called it in."

"Fucking shitballs," Tonks muttered. "Well, get Magical Creatures on the horn, and get … fuck. You know what? Just call Granger directly. If Harry and Ron are there, might as well save everyone some time."

"Roger, ma'am," Nitt replied, already folding an airplane.

Tonks collected her Auror kit, and pulled on her cloak. Nitt was just outside of her office as she locked up. She stopped, just before dashing off, and told him,

"Nitt, go to Magical Games and Sports - ask for Alicia Spinnet. Tell her this is a Code Orange - she'll understand."

"Yes Ma'am!"

They dashed off in different directions. All of Magical Law Enforcement was pouring into the Apparation Hall, so Tonks knew something was up. She Disapparated, appearing again in the back room of Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop. Eilene Fortescue was a good friend, and didn't mind Tonks popping in.

* * *

Diagon Alley was bedlam when Tonks arrived, small cup of Rocky Road in hand. Witches and wizards were pouring out of shops, walking en masse toward Gringotts, some of them actually carrying torches. The goblins, for their part, were assembled in an eerily military rank in front of Gringotts, with one goblin barking out what must have been orders.

Hermione ran to catch up with Tonks as she was making her way to the bank to reconnoiter.

"This looks bad, Tonks."

"Nah, kid. This sort of thing happens, you'll get used to it."

"Tonks, the goblins have drawn their wands."

"Yeah, and you're going to have to field Howlers from all the people who didn't want you to allow them wands in the first place," Tonks said, grinning.

"That's not funny."

"I know. But we'll have this sorted in no time. You go parlay with the leader - I'll handle the mob."

As Hermione hurried forward to the head goblin, she heard Tonks barking commands at the crowd. Should she be turned on? No, absolutely not at this moment. She had a job to do. "Hello Kahkblok. What's all this ruckus?"

"Finally," he groused. "A witch we respect. Hello Ms. Granger."

"Right. So, what's this all about, Kahkblok?" Hermione asked.

"You humans have been relying on our good graces long enough. We're lowering the rates on our certificates of deposit to LIBOR 225 basis points. And no toaster!"

Hermione looked confused. "What does lowering your rates have to do with manhandling your customers and closing shop?"

"Silly human," Kahkblok answered. "You can't just raise and lower interest rates without blood being shed on the field of battle! You expect me to believe that people will just accept earning less on their deposits?"

Hermione rubbed the bridge of her nose, shaking her head.

Meanwhile, Tonks had sort of restored order to the agitated wizarding contingent. The mob still looked as though it was on edge. She was about to call to Harry for help with one of the men who was still yelling, when people began zooming by on brooms overhead.

"Nitt got it right," Tonks said happily.

The Quidditch players all landed in line, forming a barrier between the goblins and the humans. They faced the wizards, seemingly unperturbed by the chaos around them.

"Hey Tonks," Alicia said, landing next to her. "Probationary special flying constables at your service."

"Wotcher! Nice timing."

After the goblins had stood down, Hermione walked over to Tonks.

"I'm pretty sure your aurors can handle it from here," she said. "The goblins will be opening back up in five – they'll be putting out a sandwich board with the latest rates rather than resorting to open war, so that's something."

"Between the quidditch players and your two compadres, the streets should be clear in five minutes or so. I guess we're done. Close call that. Good job, by the way."

"Thanks," Hermione replied. "You know, I'm feeling peckish. Fancy a spot of lunch?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, after a lively discussion about the merits of pub food versus hipster cafes, Tonks had talked Hermione into trying a Muggle restaurant called Archipelago. She was trying not to laugh, highly entertained at Hermione's reaction to the menu.

"Alpaca?" Hermione whispered. "Really, Tonks? But they're cute!"

"It's an exotic food place - come on and live a little! You're a Gryffindor," Tonks laughed. "The crocodile and poached plums are delicious."

"I think I'll stick with the pork belly and coconut rice."

"Fine. But I'm ordering dessert for us, and you have to try it."

"If you say so."

* * *

"Tonks?" Hermione asked.

Tonks smiled at Hermione sweetly, trying not to laugh.

"Miss Tonks, why in the name of all that is holy are there insects on my plate?"

Tonks was losing her battle against the giggles.

"Miss Tonks," Hermione continued, speaking overly calmly through her clenched teeth, "I don't care if these insects are bathed in chocolate. I don't care if I'm bathed in chocolate. I'm not fucking eating any bugs."

"Well, I'd eat you if you were bathed in chocolate," Tonks snarked, before realizing what she said. Hermione's eyes opened wide.

"Er, Tonks?" Hermione asked, barely able to breathe.

"Sorry, Hermione," Tonks said in a hurry. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable -"

"You didn't," Hermione interrupted. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

But before either of them could say another word, they both felt something warm in their pockets. The DA coin messaging system had really taken off in the wake of the War. The message was short, and they knew it was important. Harry didn't message unless he really couldn't handle things himself.

"Get back to Ministry," it read. "Minister Shacklebolt needs us. Urgent."

"You owe me a dessert that doesn't have antennae, Tonks."

"Oh, that's fine," Hermione said, vanishing the chocolate-covered locusts while Tonks was reading the coin. "I'll just settle up here and meet you back at the ministry."

"No dice, sweets," Tonks said. "Apparently Kingsley needs both of us."

"You don't suppose things went bad after we left, do you?"

"No, we would've heard by now. This is probably just a debrief."

* * *

The ladies settled up, and then squeezed into the tiny loo to apparate to the ministry, where they were ushered into the Minister for Magic's office, where Ron, Harry, and Kingsley sat with stern faces.

"There've been some complications…"

"With what? We left Gringotts in a good way!" Tonks insisted.

"It's not about Gringotts," Harry said grimly, passing Tonks a copy of the Daily Prophet.

There was silence as the newcomers read the paper. Career politicians, doctors, and law enforcement are all pretty good at reading silence. You either got good at it, or suffered in those lines of work. And this silence had flavors - anxious, angry, confused, outraged, disbelieving…. Kingsley actually flinched when Tonks's hair went red and she looked up at him.

"You. Have. Got. To. Be. FUCKINGWITHME, Kingsley!"

"I wish I was. How should we proceed?

"How did you get the goblins to play along, darling?" Angelina asked, lazily using some stain cleaner to get Verity's makeup off one of George's undershirts.

"They owed Bill some severance that he never collected on. We called it an even swap," George replied.

"Was Bill aware of this swap?"

"Come again, love? Couldn't make out that last bit. Anyway, I've got a real doozy picked out next…"

* * *

"That's right," Kingsley said. "Glastonbury. The centaurs are threatening to make an appearance at the festival, claiming it infringes on ancient Centaur lands."

"But those lands haven't been in use for centuries!"

"Doesn't mean it's not theirs," Ron said, shrugging.

Hermione let out a quiet sigh. "Are they willing to talk this one through? Or are we already in a crisis situation?"

"Oh no," Kingsley said, "it's never that serious. The President of the Celtic Centaur Convocation is willing to discuss a way forward. But they stressed that a Glastonbury Stampede is on the table if satisfactory amends aren't made."

"What are you thinking?" Tonks asked Hermione.

"So...last year that novel 50 Shades of Neigh came out -"

"You're not suggesting…."

"Let's go talk to Centaur Fanciers Anonymous. I'm sure they'll help."

* * *

Hermione and Tonks found the dodgy basement where the meeting was held. There were 10 folding chairs in a circle, and five of them were taken. They grabbed some tea and biscuits and sat down.

"Hello, my name is Delores, and I fancy centaurs."

"Hi Delores!" the four people around them replied.

"Welcome to the regular Tuesday evening Knockturn Alley meeting of Centaur Fanciers Anonymous…"

"Tonks, that's Umbridge up there," Hermione whispered. "I really can't do this."

"You're right," Tonks replied. Let's –"

"I see we have some new faces with us this evening!" Umbridge said, and they sat right back down.

Hermione and Tonks slunk down in their chairs. They knew that the memory charms done on Umbridge made them unrecognizable, but good grief….

"We're here to discuss an opportunity with the local centaur community," Tonks hurried to say. She tried to ignore the...enthusiastic noises that came from the party. "We want to pay homage to the centaur lands of Glastonbury. To do so, we propose to throw a…." Tonks had to pause here to avoid "orgy". "We propose to throw a party."

She couldn't even finish before witches and wizards alike were demanding to know how to sign up.

"Hem, hem," Umbridge said. "This is not the purpose of this fellowship. We are here to learn to live without violating our bodies with these beasts, not –"

The entire meeting had emptied out onto Knockturn Alley, and several of the members could be heard making whinnying sounds under their breath.

"Tonks, this isn't right," Hermione said. "That one fellow said he's not felt the strong embrace of a centaur in over 20 years. We shouldn't be leading them astray like this."

Tonks rolled her eyes and huffed. "Fine. What's your big idea?"

"Maybe we just meet the centaurs at the festival?"

Tonks smiled. "I think...I think it's finally happened."

"What?" Hermione said, glancing around in case something was about to pop out at her.

"I think I know something you don't."

Hermione huffed. "That's probable - you have the wisdom of years."

"Are you calling me old?"

"Of course not," Hermione said, grinning. "So...what is it you know, Nymphadora?"

"I'll ignore that for now. We need to go to Hogwarts. There's a book on centaurs there. Might help ease your conscience a bit."

"Do I want to know?"

"Just know that Madam Pince and I have an understanding. Let's go."

* * *

One apparition, six hours, and 250 books later, Hermione began to see what Tonks was saying.

"According to this 13th century tome, if the Centaurs are exposed to Trance EDM for more than 20 minutes, they lose all of that stuffiness and pretense and become – normal?"

"Yes, but read on," Tonks said.

"And hearing Dubstep makes 'theyre passiones enflaumed for Wytch y Wyzard, and theyre equine Talleywackers aun engorged wi-' Well, you get the idea."

"Exactly," Tonks said. "So, we get them good and randy, and they'll be willing to listen to anything we say once we let the horse-lovers at them."

An hour later, Kingsley was staring at the two of them blankly. He looked like he'd gone into his mental happy place, and was reluctant to come out. Behind him, Harry and Ron let out the little wheezes and grunts that indicated they were two seconds away from laughter.

"You wish me," Kingsley said, rubbing the sides of his face, "to release Ministry funds, so that you can have a centaur orgy out in Glastonbury?"

"That's the long and short of it, yes," Hermione said.

"We'd do it free, but, you know, XXXXXXXXXL condoms aren't exactly a penny per packet."

* * *

What surprised Kingsley most of all was that this went off without a hitch.

Hermione convinced Tonks to find some, er, participants who were not in active recovery from Centaurphilia, and Tonks was able to get a memory of a Centaur Orgy for her "memory bank." Hermione had always wanted to attend Glastonbury. Growing up in Gloucestershire, it was tantalizingly close as a teen, but somehow she'd bypassed it every year for The Burrow. This year, she was not to be denied.

"Hey, Tonks?" she asked. "I have this tent in my bag. Fancy sticking around for the rest of the festival?"

"Please tell me the tent is magical and you're not going through the same 'Live It As A Muggle' phase as my cousin."

"Draco's hipster trends have not rubbed off on me, no. Tent has indoor plumbing and a whisky bar."

"Count me in, then."

Later, as they were lounging in the outdoor hammocks, listening to Lenny Kravitz, and eating whatever-on-a-stick, they were surprised to see George Weasley stroll past.

"Wotcher, Georgie!"

"Hi George!"

"Ladies," he said, nodding at them. "Just thought I'd pop by to enjoy the music. How are things?"

Tonks gave him a Look - capital letter justified.

"That wasn't random, was it, Tonks?" Hermione asked.

"No, kiddo. No, it wasn't. There's something fishy about all of this, don't you think?"

"Do you know what Harry said to me when I told him about how I'd bollixed up our noodles-date? He said –"

"Wait – you wanted that to be a date?" Tonks asked, hopefulness dripping from each syllable.

Hermione sighed. The kneazle was truly out of the bag. "I was really hoping so, yes."

Tonks rolled out of her hammock, walked over to Hermione, and kissed her soundly. Hermione smiled and said "well, that's us sorted. Now it's payback time."

"George, Angelina, I'm guessing Ginny was in on it, but we'll never be able to prove it," Tonks listed, ticking off names on her fingers.

"Harry, Ron, I know Luna had a bet that I'd somehow bring up the Thirtieth Triumph of Kahlkin the Lecher to get you in the mood."

"Well now that you mention it," Tonks said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"We're plotting revenge, woman, focus!"

Tonks picked Hermione up and carried her caveman style back to their tent. "We can plan while we aggressively snuggle."

"Being thrown over someone's shoulder as a segue snuggling is a new one...."

"Three bushels of bananas?"

"Check"

"10 meters of 1" diameter hemp rope?"

"Check"

"Brittany Spears Greatest Hits album"

"Check"

"Extra-stretchy black cat suit?"

"Wait, what's that for?"

"Oh, that's for me, as long as I'm watching your back during this escapade, I want to make it worth my while," Tonks said with a wink. Hermione blew a raspberry her direction and sent a mild stinging hex her way."

"Focus, woman. There's plenty of time for that later."

"Fine, Tonks replied. "But later had better come sooner."

"Oh, you will…" Hermione replied under her breath, humming "…Baby One More Time"

* * *

Meanwhile, in Cardiff, their victi - er, friends, had gathered at the appointed spot. It was a small wizarding town, and they'd gathered at a restaurant.

"Did Hermione say why they wanted to get together tonight?" Ron asked.

"They said we'd all had a rough go of it last week, and they wanted to enjoy a night off," Harry informed him.

"I'm surprised they're not enjoying a night in," George sniggered. He stopped when Angelina nudged him in the ribs.

"Behave yourself, George La'Michael Weasley," she said. "Or there will be no playtime later."

"You never let me have any fun…."

Hermione entered the restaurant first, wearing a breezy sundress and sandals, looking for all the world as if she'd just come from the festival, rather than the secret lair she had built into her apartment building's basement. The hostess walked her over to the section designated for her "friends," and with a 50-galleon tip, agreed not to see or hear anything that evening.

"Hello, all," she sighed, slumping into a chair. "What a week, right?"

"How was the festival, Hermione?" Harry asked. "You look like you got some sun."

"Well, seeing Bowie in person was brilliant, but – Oh, Hi, Tonks…"

There were gasps. Ron fainted. Angelina pouted in jealousy, wishing that one drunken night with Tonks after the Dublin Destroyers game had ended differently. Next time, morals be damned, she decided. Harry's mouth was opening and closing like a world-saving fish as he stared at the metamorphmagus. He had just enough presence of mind to take in Tonks's electric blue hair, and decide that she probably was in a good mood. George had been taking a bite of his mozzarella stick, and Angelina had to thump him on the back a few times when it went down the wrong way.

"Hi, boys," Tonks said, shooting Angelina the sauciest of winks. "What's tricks?"

Harry was the first to recover his dignity, "Er, you look well. Glad you could join us."

"Yes, that festival was just what the healer ordered. Speaking of ordered, I'm starvin' like mad muggle Marvin. Let's get this grub on!"

"You, er, you don't want to…" George stammered.

"Oh, you mean this banana-skin suit?" Tonks said. Bananas are in this year. All the rage. In fact, you should join me!"

As she said this, Hermione summoned the three bushels of bananas, while Tonks cut them into hammocks for the boys, and a pasties-and-merkin set for Angelina.

By now, Harry had revived Ron, because if he had to deal with this madness, so did his best friend. Angelina looked all for whatever was about to happen, but George looked terrified.

Hermione had picked this place specifically for this reason. It catered to a certain clientele, and in another hour their literal banana hammocks would be the least surprising things in the room. She swiped one of George's mozzarella sticks and carried on as if her girlfriend of one weekend hadn't just swapped everyone's (except her) clothes for banana peels.

"So, which Quidditch teams are playing this week?"

"Tonks, I didn't know you were a quidditch fan," Hermione said.

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me, sweets," Tonks replied.

"You know, you're right. Let's remedy that. Tonks, would you like to go on a date with me?"

"I'd be delighted."

"Fabulous. I know this darling burlesque cabaret where they have the oddest of shows. I think tonight's is called 'Gorilla Follies.'"

Three banana hammocks suddenly went slack, while Angelina gasped.

"Oh, that sounds darling…" Tonks said. "Shall we get a seat?"

Tonks transfigured her outfit into a black leather mini dress, and the two ladies took a seat by the stage.

An hour and a half later, after a delicious dinner of tacos and some questionable mojitos, the final number was sung. Most of the group - including Hermione at this point - were watching in wide-eyed amazement. Tonks was basically a card-carrying member of this club by now, so tonight was tame in her opinion. She had to admit the bit with the grapefruit was a new technique to her.

"You'll never be the same baby once I'm done with you-ou-ou-ou-ou - YOUUuuuuUUU!" the lead actor sang.

A butler came over after it ended and said, "Ms. Tonks? Your private suite is ready."

Tonks took Hermione by the hand, and together they followed the butler up to their private viewing room. Down below, Angelina, George, Ron, and Harry had been secured with the rope, and were being led on stage to help with that evening's big finale.

"Well, isn't this the tastiest selection of bananas I've ever seen," the performer in the gorilla suit said, leering at George.

"We'll just have to try them all."

Tonks cozied herself under Hermione's arm while they watched the show.

"You see that bug down there?" Hermione said.

"You didn't!"

"Mess with the snorkack, you get the crumpled horns, my love."

* * *

The next day, all of them stood in front of Kingsley, heads down in penitence. Kingsley had a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of him - the headline read, "The Boy Who Yodeled."

"Unsporting of a club member to tattle," Tonks muttered.

"Now," Kingsley began, "I was a bouncer for a very...specialized Muggle nightclub in the 80s. So, I've seen a thing or two. Or three. But not on the front page of the paper! Please keep whatever proclivities you have to the private suites. And you still haven't explained why George is this interesting shade of blue."

"Skeeter says she owes me one, but if she sold that story to the  _Prophet_ , she owes me a bit more than that," Hermione said. "And the blue thing? Honestly, Kingsley. We were all there. You don't want to know."

Ron, Harry, and Tonks shuddered and shook their heads in agreement. Kingsley rubbed the bridge of his nose and sent them all back to work.

Lunchtime came, and Tonks bounced her way over to Hermione's office.

"You know, sweets," she said. "I don't think we can really call that a proper date."

"I think you're right," Hermione replied. "Tonight, then?"

"You're on. But this time, let's go easy on the theatrics. I think they've learned their lesson, and you've got to save some surprises for me," Hermione said with a grin.

"Cheers. I'll pick you up at six." With that, Tonks made her way back to Magical Law Enforcement's wing.

"Oi! Tonks!"

She turned to spot Neville Longbottom rushing toward her. "Wotcher, Neville. What's all that?" she asked, nodding to the boxes.

"All this is yours. Head of MLE asked me to supply some potions ingredients."

She noticed something different about him, but couldn't quite put her finger on it.

* * *

Tonks knocked on Hermione's office door at precisely 6:02pm, wearing an all-black ensemble of motorcycle jacket, t-shirt, leather capris, and three-inch heels. She saw Hermione still buried under a mountain of paperwork, and sighed.

"One of those nights, huh?" she asked. Hermione looked up, saw what Tonks was wearing, flicked her wand three times and shouted "Sort!" She then pointed the wand at her robes, transfiguring them into a pink satin jacket, striped mosquito skirt, and black Dr. Martens.

"Oh yes," Hermione answered. "It certainly will be one of those nights. Chic tapas and dancing 'til dawn?"

"Lead the way"

The restaurant was a semi-hidden gem. Not super exclusive, but tucked away enough that they could be reasonably certain that they wouldn't be interrupted by anyone from their world.

"So, as I was panicking earlier over our first official date, I came up with an idea," Hermione said.

"What's that?"

"Well, we've been through a war, saved each other's lives, revamped an entire governmental structure...but I still don't know your favorite color."

"Orange," Tonks supplied.

"So... rapid fire trivia. No subject off limits."

"I see this derailing quickly."

"We shall endeavor to meet the challenge as best we can."

Two bottles of Rioja in, and the questions were flying fast and furious:

"First pet?" Hermione asked

"Kneazle. You?"

"Budgie."

"Favorite cocktail?" It was Tonks's turn.

"More of a wine girl myself. You?"

"Mojitos. All day. Your turn."

"Alright," Hermione said. "What's your wand core?"

"Oh, you just want to see what's underneath?" Tonks asked with a grin.

"Maybe I do…"

"Dragon Heartstring. Now, what's your favorite position?"

"Tonks!"

"In quidditch, silly. What did you think I was asking?"

"Oh, not really much of a fan, but I'm a dreadful keeper in the indoor game," Hermione replied. "What's your favorite breakfast?"

"Check, please!"

* * *

They wandered through the warm summer night, chatting happily and trying to figure out what they wanted to do next. Dancing was the general answer, the question was where. Hermione grinned at Tonks and said,

"Well, there's always your mission."

"What?"

"Candy Bar."

Tonks laughed, having forgotten her first abysmal attempt at flirting. "Sure - let's party. But I'll be the only one giving you lap dances, madam."

"What, you're telling me you don't have a stellar pole routine to show off?"

"Of course, but that's for if we go back to my place. Let's go party with the lesbian Muggles."


End file.
